Rarity was never much a fan of ferrets.
Rarity frowned. It was a pretty sort of frown. It was the kind that would be featured on a magazine next to the latest news about a scandal and other truly horrible gossip that everypony would leap at the chance to read. It didn’t feel quite appropriate for the situation, but Rarity wasn’t sure she was capable of not being beautiful.
“Darling, you know I respect your choices,” she began carefully, taking a seat in front of the playpen in the middle of the castle’s throne room. “You always act in what you believe is everypony’s best interests.”
“I do,” agreed Twilight, fixing a wire-mesh net over the top of the foal-proof pen. “You know me so well.”
“Well,” Rarity continued, her petite and delicate frown deepening like a wilting flower. “In this particular case, I’m afraid I don’t quite understand how you reached this decision.”
Twilight was silent. Her wings rustled against her back, much in the way that a nervous bird might, but her face betrayed no emotion. Only calm and contemplative curiosity.
“I feel I must be honest with my feelings, darling, and I do hope you don’t mind.” It was time to cut to the chase, to get straight to the point, to address the not-quite-an-elephant in the room. “Why is Rainbow Dash a ferret?”
Her dearest friend, chief among alicorns and bookworms alike, shrugged dispassionately. “We’re learning a lesson.”
This was, to be precise, not the answer Rarity expected to hear. “Pardon?”
“Well, lessons, as in plural. Different ones.” Twilight nodded at the multicolored writhing noodle of a creature that looked very much as though it were screeching at the top of its tiny lungs. “I’m learning about the effects of stress on smaller mammals.”
Rarity blinked. Flabbergasted wasn’t the sort of look that was in, but she wore it wonderfully all the same. “And… the other lesson?”
“Rainbow Dash,” Twilight chirped as she pulled out a clipboard. “Is learning about property damage.”
“Property damage?”
The ferret banged soundlessly against the plastic pen. Its tiny paws slammed against a glimmering magical barrier. Twilight bent down to peer into its teensy magenta eyes. “Yes. Do you know how much property damage she’s caused over the years? I’ve gotten the chance to look over the town’s budget, and about half our taxes go to repairs directly caused by her stunts.”
Rarity blustered beautifully. “You cannot be serious. Why, much of the damage is caused by all of us combined, whenever monsters attack!”
“But it’s not,” Twilight flipped a page on her clipboard, not even bothering to look up at Rarity’s astounded expression. “Rainbow Dash takes the most risks out of all of us, and her attacks and maneuvers are higher speed than the rest of ours combined. Even after we became the Elements of Harmony, she’s wrecked the most buildings, and nopony’s stupid enough to offer insurance for Rainbow-Dash-related-damages.”
The tiny ferret slumped over suddenly. Rarity gasped and pressed against the barrier, hoping that little rib cage was still rising and falling… “Even if that were the case, I’d say she’s had enough! Torture has never been the consequence for property damages. Not in Ponyville at least! Why, the only real punishment we’ve used aside from fines is-”
“Community service!” declared Twilight, unwrapping the mesh from the top. “She’s serving her community, don’t worry. Mayor Mare said that I could help decide Rainbow’s latest sentence. Did you know that she’s done more community service hours in the last year than all the foals in Cheerilee’s class combined? She just keeps doing the time and then making a mess again!”
Rarity pushed against the playpen, but it just wasn’t moving, and a thin, wispy barrier kept her from getting in through the top. “This isn’t community service! Is she even alive in there? Darling, what is going on with you? This isn’t like you!”
“Like me? Rarity, she’s contributing to science, more than she ever was, and she’ll never destroy property again! She’s learning her lesson for good this time! We’ll be saving so much money on the budget from now, it’ll be...” A distant, dreamy look plastered itself on Twilight’s face. It looked almost forced, Rarity noted with disgust, as though somepony had moulded it out of clay that had previously been in the shape of her friend. “It’ll be e f f i c i e n t, Rarity.”
“Efficient, is that it?” Rarity sputtered with style, taking a few steps back. The ferret in the playpen didn’t move. It hadn’t moved. Something was wrong with Rainbow Dash, and more importantly, something was wrong with Twilight.
“Yup.” Twilight stared at her clipboard vacantly, giving Rarity the chance to study her friend more closely. Something must’ve been in control of her, she reasoned. This simply wasn’t Twilight anymore, and that meant genuine logic went out the gorgeous stained-glass window.
“I don’t think,” Rarity said slowly, trying to sound as casual as she could, even though casual wasn’t really in style at the moment and adrenaline sent cold jolts through her veins. “That this is the most efficient way to teach Rainbow Dash a lesson, darling. I think, perhaps, that we ought to sit down and discuss this.”
“Discuss?” The clipboard fell to the floor. It was scrawled upon, in hoofwriting that Rarity knew wasn’t the careful shapes of her friend’s, repeating the same word over and over, ignoring lines and checkboxes and criteria. “Sure, we can discuss things.”
“Firstly,” said Rarity, feeling the sudden need to take another step back towards the door. “Would you happen to know when the last time you read a strange book was? I know you get a lot of odd ones sent to you in the mail, but I don’t know… if…” She bit her lip.
Twilight smiled. It was an ugly sort of smile. “Out of curiousity,” she said, the pale glow of her horn atop her bangs casting a dark shadow over her eyes. “What is your general opinion on racoons?”
Rarity was so distracted, she nearly missed the telltale click of the door locking behind her. “I beg your pardon?”
“Racoons,” said Twilight, clarifying nothing. “Their fur is more valuable than a ferret’s. Much softer, and with enough racoon hides, you might be able to start repaying back what you owe to the town.”
Twilight lifted the playpen from the ground in her field. A thin blue wisp flew from the ferret and into a cloth-draped box at the edge of the room. It rattled. The still corpse of the ferret was levitated aside, next to a box half-filled with rainbow-colored pelts. “I don’t… I don’t owe anything to the town! I pay my taxes! I-”
“You disturb the peace,” replied Twilight woodenly, and in that moment Rarity felt the most agonizing feeling rip through every nerve in her body, before she felt nothing at all, and yet felt somehow distant from where she knew her body had crumpled to the floor.
She could feel her being, her soul taking the shape of something else, and it hurt so little in comparison to what she felt it must, she tried to scream. No sound came out.
The most beautiful racoon in Equestria opened its eyes and saw the clipboard it lay on, with words scrawled illegibly across it.
INEFFICIENT
INEFFICIENT
INEFFICIENT
Twilight carefully settled the playpen over Rarity and gave her an unpleasantly grotesque smile. “Your soul is even stronger than Rainbow’s!” She said cheerfully. “I bet you could become even better shapes without losing so much of yourself! The process of creating something from nearly nothing isn’t… isn’t quite perfect yet, but that’s what we’re here to figure out!”
“Now,” said the alicorn, and the racoon screamed and no sound came out. “Are you ready to learn with me, Rarity?”
